Lightning Strikes
by Glogirl77
Summary: Samuel Allen, older brother to Barry Allen, knew that the moment that lightning entered his life that it would never be the same. Now, at the age of 32, he is a metahuman who fights crime. He also seems to be drawing the attention of a supervillain he met in another life-time. His damn PTSD isn't helping his situation either. Fucking lightning. (Leonard Snart x Male OC)
1. The Starting Line

Samuel Allen was 17 when his mother was killed by something impossible and his father was put in jail for it. Samuel was 17 when he was left to care for his 12 year old brother, Barry. Samuel was 17 when he started having nightmares of a man in yellow surrounded by lightning.

He was 18 when he dived into a life of crime and recklessness. He was 18 when he started motorcycle street racing. He was 18 when he earned the name Racer in the crime world as a thief.

Samuel was 19 when pulled his first crew heist. Samuel was 19 when he was diagnosed with depression and suicidal tendencies. Samuel was 19 when he stopped working with criminal crews.

He was 20 when he met Leonard Snart. He was 20 when he stole a heist from right underneath the future Captain Cold. He was 20 when he nearly got himself killed.

/—/—/

Sam cursed inwardly as he took a sharp right turn down the alley way where he had left his bike. Of course someone else would have been targeting the jewel he stole. Of course he just had to run into them. Of fucking course he was up against a full fucking crew. The one time he pulls a heist without letting a crew with him.

Thank God he was wearing his normal heist gear, and not a simple robber mask. His motorcycle helmet would protect his head from rough blows. Bang! Unfortunately it would not protect him from a gun. Sam cursed quietly as he ducked his head as a stray bullet nearly hit him. The young 20 year old practically threw himself over his motorcycle and turned on the engine.

"C'mon c'mon c'mon," Sam whispered as he kicked the engine into gear.

Click. _Shit_. Sam froze on his bike as he felt the pistol dig into his back. Right against the spine. Sam slowly rose his hands in a surrendering position. The young male's heart was pounding against his rib cage and thrumming in his head. Joe would kill him if he ever found out about what he really did for a living now-a-days and Barry would kill him if he died doing this.

"Step off the bike."

Sam glanced over his shoulder at the voice. You've got to be kidding me, Sam thought as focused on the man who had him at gun-point. Leonard Snart. A man you never wanted to cross. A man who had a very good reputation as a thief.

This could either go really good or really bad. Sam slowly stepped off his motorcycle and turned the engine off, turning to face the older man. Snart looked him up and down slowly, trailing his eyes up his body causing a light shiver to curl up Sam's spine.

"I'm impressed. No one has ever stolen a heist out from under me," Snart said his voice cool and collected as he dragged his eyes appreciatively up Sam's body again.

"Can't really take that credit now. You have me a gun point. Didn't really steal anything if you caught me," Sam replied back thanking his voice modulator for hiding his identity.

Snart cocked an eyebrow at his voice as he studied him quietly. The blue-green eyed male took a step forward causing Sam to take a step backwards. Snart smirked as he pushed forward until he had Sam backed against the wall of the alley way. Sam's breathing hitched behind his helmet as Snart stepped into his space pressing the pistol against his hip. That should not have the effect that it does.

"My, my, if I didn't know any better, Racer, I would say you have a bit of a gun kink," Snart smirked pressing the pistol into the hollow of his hip.

"Snart. Don't," Sam swallowed as he glanced down at the loaded gun shivering slightly at the use of his street name.

"Hand over the artifact you stole from my crew, and I won't tell anyone else you were here. Wouldn't want you to lose your reputation just because you stole the wrong artifact at the wrong time," the older male drawled as he reached his other hand up to pull at the bottom of Sam's helmet getting extremely close.

Sam snatched at Snart's wrist physically stopping him from pulling off his helmet. The tension between the two heightened as Snart flicked his gaze up and down the other thief's body again. If there was one thing that Sam cared about when it came to this job it was his identity. No one knew who Racer was and he would like to keep it that way.

"You'll have to buy me dinner first to get that," Sam spoke his voice slightly teasing trying to ease the tension between them as he held out the artifact in his free hand.

Snart smirked lightly as he pulled his wrist away from Sam's grip and grabbed the artifact. The tension eased between them as the older male backed away and put away his pistol. Sam rolled his shoulders and pulled his helmet back into place from where it had slightly shifted up.

"Pleasure doing business with you Racer," Snart drawled eyeing the younger male up and down one last time.

Sam merely snorted and shook his head as he headed for his bike giving Snart a small two finger salute. As first meetings go it was far from Sam's worst.

/—/—/

Sam was 21 when he started fixing motorcycles for a cover story. Sam was 21 when he was recruited for A.R.G.U.S.. Sam was 21 when he slowly started to become more of a soldier than a thief.

He was 22 when he got trapped in an Afghanistan prison for a crime he never committed. He was 22 when he was tortured and raped for information. He was 22 when he broke himself out of a high security Afghani prison and killed his assaulters.

Sam was 23 when he was initiated into the Russian Mob. Sam was 23 when he started to use his skills as a thief to become more than an asset for A.R.G.U.S.. Sam was 23 when he let himself suggest the idea of a Suicide Squad to Amanda Waller.

He was 24 when he was sent to Canada for a mission. He was 24 when he was blinded in his left eye. He was 24 when his sniper was shot causing the shrapnel to enter his eye.

/—/—/

Sam cursed quietly as he adjusted his scope for the second time. He hated the cold. He hated snow. He hated the fact that this was a stealth mission, but he needed to move every-now-and-then to stay alive. Sam sighed as he focused on his target.

"Alpha this is Wolf-1 target is moving to the second floor—," Sam spoke into his comms only to cut himself off with a sharp intake of breath as pain exploded through his skull.

Sam didn't even realize he had fallen backwards from his position and was grabbing at his eye. He didn't recognize his own scream. All he could feel was the pain in his skull and the fact that he couldn't see from his left eye.

He was blinded in his left eye. For _good_.

/—/—/

Sam was 25 when he moved back to Central City. Sam was 25 when he began working as a gun for hire to keep his mind off the man in yellow. Sam was 25 when he started being more present in Barry's life.

He was 26 when he picked up his life of crime again. He was 26 when he started stealing from people who earned their riches through illegal and cruel manners, and began giving to the needy. He was 26 when became a vigilante.

Sam was 27 when he met a member of Lewis Snart's crew. Sam was 27 when he got Lewis Snart sent to Iron Heights. Sam was 27 when he was named an anti-hero in the streets.

He was 28 when he ran into Batman in Gotham. He was 28 when he earned the Gotham Bat's respect. He was 28 when he was named a Gotham Vigilante.

/—/—/

"You've been named a Gotham Vigilante," the dark knight spoke up from his position behind Sam.

"I saw the headline," Sam answered his voice rough from little use.

Batman didn't react to the answer, but he did move to stand next to younger man.

The two stared over the edge of the roof that they were on. The silence caused Sam to sigh heavily. Batman turned to look at his new partner.

"What's your plan now," the dark knight asked as he turned to look over Gotham again.

"I think I'll go back to Central. Gotham already has a hero. It doesn't need another. I need on check on my brother as well," Sam glanced at the older man at the question.

"If you need me, you know where to find me," Batman nodded glancing over to the side as a siren went off.

"That's your cue. Go. I can handle myself," Sam smiled lightly at the sound.

"I trust you'll do fine in Central. Till we meet again," Batman nodded giving a smile of his own as he stuck out his hand.

Sam nodded and took the firm handshake.

"Till we meet again."

/—/—/

Sam was 29 when he became Central City's dark guardian angel. Sam was 29 when he began to clean up Central City's streets. Sam was 29 when he went and saw his Dad in prison for the first time in years.

He was 30 when Barry found out his identity. He was 30 when Barry had to dig a bullet out of his side. He was 30 when his PTSD kicked in and tore his mind apart.

Sam was 31 when he had a panic attack on the Fourth of July. Sam was 31 when he fell apart in his own apartment. Sam was 31 when he realized how much he needed his brother.

/—/—/

The first firework was what caused it. Logically, Sam knew what it was the second his heart rate picked up. Barry was holding him tightly to his chest whispering soft nothings into his ear. _Fuck_ , he's supposed to be the comforter. He's the older sibling. The sound of another firework went off and Sam whimpered.

He was used to phantom pain, but not like this. The sound of the fireworks had sounded too familiar to a sniper round going through a scope. It was like he was in Canada again.

"It's okay Sammy. I'm here. I'm here. Nothing's gonna hurt you. I'm right here," Barry whispered as Sam rocked into him keeping his lungs from giving out.

God, he loved his brother.

/—/—/

Samuel Micheal Allen was 32 when lightning struck.

 **/—/—/**

 **So this is my first story in this fandom. The Arrowverse belongs to CW. Hope you enjoy. This will follow Canon closely with only a few changes. Please do leave comments even if you don't favorite it or follow. Thank you.**


	2. Slow Motion

Chapter 2

Sam stared at his reflection in shock. He could _see_. He shouldn't be able to see. He was supposed to be blind in one eye. The vigilante swallowed heavily as he shifted his head allowing his eyes to trail over the scars he still had. Whatever the lightning did to him hadn't gotten rid of the scars. Just his blindness.

Sam took a deep breath as he listened to the sound of his heart. The damn thing was so loud in his ears. The 32 year old swallowed heavily as he looked up at his reflection again. His eyes. His eyes and the lightning-berg scar were what freaked him out the most. The milky brown and hazel contrasted so much. The milky brown eye was missing a pupil. That he was familiar with. The scar lines from his injury years ago were faded, but they just made it worse. The lightning-berg scar trailed from his back and ribcage up to the back of his neck.

"Uh. You okay in there, man? I mean, I know you're probably freaking out cause you've been in a coma for nine months, but still."

Sam tried his best not to flinch at the voice outside the bathroom. A coma. Nine months. _Fucking hell_. Sam swallowed heavily.

"I'm alright. Just. Just processing," Sam answered to the voice.

His voice was shot to hell, and it was shaking terribly. God he reminded himself of when he was in Afghanistan. Samuel reared back when a hand touched his shoulder causing the vigilante to nearly hit whoever had touched him.

"Woah, woah, easy there! Friendly," the same voice called out as the hand retracted.

Sam relaxed as he turned to stare at the man, really a boy. Cisco, he believed the guy's name was. The long haired male held his hands up in a surrendering position as he eyed Samuel. Sam hesitated as he lowered his clenched fists. He had to get out of here.

"Don't… no touching. Don't wanna hurt you on accident," Sam swallowed his heart going a million miles an hour.

"No touching got it. Look, man, if you're awake then your brother should be waking up any day now. We just want to make sure that you're alright so we are prepared for when your brother wakes up," Cisco smiled hesitantly his hands still up.

"Check up later. I need fresh air, and water," Sam pressed past Cisco walking back to the cortex as they called it.

They being STAR Labs. The ones who caused the _fucking_ particle accelerator to _fucking_ explode. He hated science. Samuel slipped on a STAR Labs t-shirt, his black jacket- which had been kept by his bedside-, and his black combat boots before heading towards the door. He didn't need an explanation of what went wrong or why they had him at the lab.

Sam ignored the younger male behind him, the female doctor asking for test samples from him, and the scientist in the wheel chair begging him to stay. _Fucking assholes_.

Sam rushed out of the building, ignoring the numbness of his legs and the pounding beneath his ribcage. Samuel Allen mentally drew up the mental map of Central City he had and tried to decide if the West house or the CCPD was closer. He could head to his apartment later.

Samuel cursed as he brushed past people along the side walks of Central City. Sam swallowed as he made his way to the CCPD. _Fuck_ , he was running on adrenaline. His mind raced as his knees nearly buckled. _Fucking hell_! Nope, he needed food or water. He needed something to get himself running on normal energy.

Sam cursed lowly as he slammed into someone while turning a corner. Fuck, he was all over the place if he didn't see that coming. The vigilante turned his head to apologize to whoever he had ran into, and got his voice stuck in his throat. Leonard Snart. A much older and clearly more experienced version of the man he had run into when he had been 20 years old.

"Sorry. I'm all over the place at the moment. Waking up from a nine month coma isn't fun," Sam forced himself to speak as Snart eyed him cooly, clearly not pleased with being ran into.

"It's fine. Can't imagine what you're going through if you just woke up a few hours ago," Snart replied, his voice as cool as ice his curiosity peaked.

"More like 30 minutes ago. I hate hospitals. I'm Samuel," the vigilante introduced himself pleased that the criminal didn't recognize his voice.

"Leonard. I wouldn't recommend running away from a hospital if you just woke up from a coma. What caused it," Snart hummed, his eyes flicking up and down Sam's body.

"Lighting strike. That's what this is from," Sam answered carefully gesturing to the scaring that curled around his shoulder and the back of his neck, seeing no reason to lie to the thief in front of him.

The eye flicking was familiar. As well as the light shift away from his right hip. Snart was most likely carrying. That wasn't surprising at all. Sam could tell by the way Snart's shoulders never relaxed that he had been labeled as dangerous. Interesting enough was that he probably wasn't as dangerous as Snart thought considering his brain wasn't fucking working.

"Sorry I ran into you, but I really need to get to my adrenaline calmed down and some food in me. Nice meeting you Leonard," Sam nodded lightly allowing his eyes to trail to the gun at the blue eyed thief's hip.

As Sam walked away he could feel Snart's eyes in his back. Yeah, he was definitely labeled as dangerous.

/—/—/

Sam stumbled into the precinct with his heart still pounding against his ribcage. He had gone to Jitters first to get something to eat and drink. Iris worked there last he knew. He had asked around to make sure she still worked there, and was pleased to know that she was only on a lunch break at the moment. So, here he was at the CCPD precinct. The brunette huffed lightly as he twirled himself around looking for either Joe or Iris West.

"Sammy?"

Speak of the devil and she shall appear. Sam spun around and locked gazes with a young woman with dark skin and darker hair wearing a pale cream dress and high heels. Samuel smiled lightly at the image.

"Iris West," Sam dipped his head in respect.

Iris put her hands up to her mouth in shock, tears flooding her dark eyes, before she launched herself at the older male. Sam grunted as he was slammed into by a warm hug.

"You're awake," Iris laughed through her tears holding Samuel tighter.

"And kicking," Samuel smiled as he slowly wrapped his arms around his foster-sister.

Samuel was aware that he was being stared at by a few others in the building. He was used to being stared at due to his extensive scaring. The 32 year old sighed as he pressed a light kiss to Iris's forehead as she sobbed happily into his chest.

"You're awake," Iris sobbed as she gripped Samuel tighter, laughter bubbling up in her throat.

"I'm awake. I'm awake, маленький," Samuel whispered tacking on the Russian nickname, _little one_.

"Samuel?"

The vigilante turned his head to look over at the source of the voice. Joe West was standing there in shock as he stared at them.

"Hаставник," Samuel smiled lightly, the Russian still falling from his lips like he had always spoken it, _mentor_.

Joe was in his suit. His hair was a little grayer than Sam remembered. His eyes had bags underneath them as well. He looked tired.

"You look tired, old man," Samuel smiled wanly as Joe stepped towards him warily.

"I'm so glad to see you awake, son," Joe smiled, his eyes pricked with tears.

"I'm glad to be awake," Samuel smiled back his chest tightening up.

/—/—/

By the time Samuel got back to his apartment his adrenaline was pumping again. The vigilante rolled his shoulders as he made his way up the stairs of his building. He felt like he was buzzing. Like there was electricity underneath his finger tips. Samuel sighed as he pulled his keys from his pocket. Iris had kept a spare with her, which was what he was using. The brunette reached his door and slipped the key in to it's lock only to notice that the door was already opened.

Dread filled the vigilante's gut at the notion. His door was open. How long had it been open? Why was it open to begin with? Who had been in his apartment? The Santinis? One of Gotham's villains? A.R.G.U.S., maybe? Sam pressed inside slowly, allowing himself to go quietly. It wasn't the first time someone had threatened him on his home base.

The walls of his apartment were normal, filled with pictures of his former squad, friends, and family. His dark wood floor made it a little harder to creep silently with his boots on. By the time he made it to the living room he had confirmed that nothing had been stolen, yet. Samuel nearly let his guard down when a familiar sound of a _bat-a-rang_ came from behind him.

Time seemed to slow down as he whipped around and stared at the dark knight. No. Time didn't _seem_ to slow down, it _did_ slow down. Not only that, but he was surrounded by lightning as well. Samuel stepped out of the way of the bat-a-rang, allowing it to slam into the wall behind him.

"You got here fast," Sam commented quietly as he eyed the weapon in the wall.

"I came as soon as I knew you were awake. You're fast," Batman answered stepping forward from the shadows of the room.

"Yeah. I just noticed that. Reminds me of a comic book," Samuel mumbled his memories flashing to the night of his mother's murder.

"There have been others," Batman nodded in agreement.

"You've been watching Central for me," Sam asked in surprise turning to look at his old friend.

"Yes. I've also been keeping an eye on Starling City," the Gotham knight nodded a light smile twitching at his lips.

"You knew. You knew that I'd be different," the younger male smirked lightly.

"Suspected."

"Whatever you say, old man."

 **/—/—/**

 **Finally got the second chapter done. I'm really enjoying this fandom. Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. I'm trying to keep it close to canon, so Batman will not be around for long. Please tell me what you think.**


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